Whispering Hearts (House of Secrets #3) - V.C. Andrews Page 0,24

wasn’t positive, but I felt relatively sure, and by now, I didn’t want to show any more hesitation or indecision, especially to her. I was afraid she’d pounce and declare I wasn’t ready for New York and tell Donald Manning to send me back like a fish too small. Even though she admittedly knew nothing of show business, I sensed that the opinion of someone like her, someone battling to survive here, was more important than anyone else’s when it came to predicting my future. I was determined to prove to her that I had what it took to turn all this into what we called a doddle, a cinch.

“That’s it, honey. You’re set as far as your feet go, at least.”

“Thank you, Marge.”

“Welcome to America. See you tomorrow,” she said, and gave me a quick hug. I didn’t even have time to raise my arms to hug her back. Now I would call it an American hug.

She hurried off more like someone making an escape. I smiled, watching her a moment, and then I walked back to the apartment building in my new walking shoes. My feet were feeling better already. When I entered, Leo came out of his apartment as if he had been listening for me at his door.

“There’s a woman coming here in ten minutes,” he said, looking at his watch. He looked at a slip of paper. “A Miss Piper Hurley. She was here earlier, but I didn’t want to let her in to look over the place until you were back.”

“Oh, right. She saw the advert at the restaurant this morning. I was supposed to call her, but I forgot to stop at a pay phone. Thank you, Leo.”

“You have a phone of your own now. It was hooked up. The bill will come this week or so. Your number,” he said, handing me a slip of paper, “is written there.”

“Thank you very much.”

“You don’t need to call this Piper Hurley. She’ll be here. Looked anxious to find a place. How’d the first day go? Better than yesterday?”

I smiled and nodded. “Harder, but yes, much better. I think anything would be.”

“That’s the spirit,” he said. “Come get me if you need any information for her,” he said, and returned to his apartment.

I went up quickly and did what I could to make the apartment more presentable. I imagined it was a good sign that this Piper Hurley was so anxious to see it. And it was good that she was trying to be in show business, too. We would have a lot in common. Perhaps she had just arrived in New York as well.

A little over ten minutes later, I heard the buzzer at the outside door and pressed the button to open it. Then I waited, listening for her footsteps. I didn’t even wait for her to knock. I hoped I’d like her, but right now that wasn’t a priority. She was, as my father would say, “as good as money in the bank.”

“Hey,” she said when I opened the door. She was a tall strawberry redhead, very pretty, with a body that looked sixty percent legs in her tight black pants and green jacket with a hood. She wore black leather shoe boots and, from what I could see, no makeup to cover the patches of freckles on the crests of her cheeks, nor did she add any lipstick to enhance her naturally orange-red lips. Her hair was pinned back. With her small features and kelly-green eyes, she had the face for it.

“Hi.” For a moment, I wasn’t certain she was the person seeking to share the apartment. Perhaps she was a neighbor stopping to say hello. My look of confusion widened her eyes.

“I’m Piper Hurley. Your grandfather wouldn’t let me see the place without you.”

I laughed. “He’s not my grandfather.”

“Yeah, well, if he’s not, he should try out next audition for grandfathers.” When I didn’t move, she lifted her hands palms up. “You’re looking for someone to share the place with you, right?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” I said.

I stepped back, and she entered and began to look around. I smelled the scent of Chanel N° 5.

“How did you get this location? Who do you know?” she asked.

“A friend of my music teacher in Guildford, England, arranged things for me.”

She looked at me and smirked. “It’s always who you know in this world, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt,” I said.

My father would say it’s forty percent, “and you’d better have that sixty

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